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by pageofwands (eorumverba)



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Coffee Shops, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-17 23:58:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16984254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eorumverba/pseuds/pageofwands
Summary: All he wants to do now is fall to his knees and worship their beauty. (or, Julian falls in love in 3, 2, 1)





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**Author's Note:**

> honestly idk !

(and julian falls in love in-) 

 

> three

Honeyed skin and moonlight hair and Julian is immediately caught up in this stranger’s orbit, in the flash of gold around their neck and the glint of turquoise shining on their chest. There are secrets on their lips and starlight in their eyes, and Julian understands this thing called love now, believes in something higher and more than himself because it is completely and utterly impossible for this celestial being to be anything but an angel.

All he wants to do now is fall to his knees and worship their beauty.

"You're an angel," he breathes, and they must be, because they glance over at that moment and catch his gaze, and they _smile,_ radiant and divine. They're not the only people in the cafe, but as cliche as it is, it feels like they are, and Julian's heart stutters in his chest as his vision turns to gold.

Julian is unable to tear his gaze away, stunned to silence and moved to reverence as this angel, this celestial being slips from their seat and makes their way over to him.

"You said something," they say, and Julian is immediately lost in the melody and cadence of their voice, in the soft curves of their face and warmth of their eyes.

"Just...you're gorgeous."

“That’s not what you said." They're grinning now, soft and almost shy, and they prop their head on one hand to stare at him, fond and amused.

"You're an angel. That's what I said, and that's what I meant. You look like an angel."

"I'm no angel," they say, still smiling a little. It's almost vicious, but on the soft curves of their face, they somehow still look divine, seraphic. “Just Asra.”

"I don't doubt that.” and then, holding out a hand, Julian says, “I’m Julian.”

 

 

> two

“So why me?" Julian asks, once they've settled down with fresh cups of coffee (something sweet and sugary for Asra, something dark and bitter for Julian) and a muffin split down the middle.

Asra pours yet another packet of sugar in their coffee before looking up at Julian through their lashes and giving him a demure smile. "Why you what?"

"Why sit with me? You're...gorgeous, and I'm-"

"I like pretty things," Asra interrupts. And it should be...Julian doesn't really know, offensive or weird maybe, but it feels just as genuine as it does playful. The smugness on their face suggests that they're used to this kind of flirting.

But Julian is used to that dance too. "You must love yourself then, pretty boy."

Asra laughs then, a little startled but mostly just pleased. "What happened to angel?"

"Like you said, you're no angel. Though…” Julian lets his gaze sweep over what he can see: from Asra’s warm eyes to their plush lips to the curve of their neck (unmarked, for now) and the dip of their shirt. “I don’t know about that.”

“Bet you’d love to see.” It’s clearly an invitation, and Julian takes it.

“Maybe I would.”

 

 

> one

Julian is no stranger to rushed kisses in bathroom stalls, and though there is so much that he still wants to do, when Asra eventually pulls away, Julian lets them. He’s thoroughly satisfied: Asra’s hair is mussed and their eyes hazy, their lips swollen and the column of their neck already beginning to bruise. Julian is sure he doesn’t look much better, but Asra giggles and leans in to kiss Julian quick and chaste one last time before whispering, “I really need to go, Julian. Thank you.”

(They somehow still look so angelic even like this that it’s almost obscene.)

 

 

> zero

Asra is gone by the time Julian gets back to their table, but that’s okay, because on Julian’s half-empty cup of coffee, in pretty handwriting, there is a string of numbers and a sentence.

_Call me. xo pretty (angel) boy_

And later, Julian takes a breath-

"Hey, pretty boy."


End file.
